Road Dream

I rode away thinking of what I need

I stopped at the beach knowing what I forgot

Days are filled, I don’t ride

Memories flood, the dreams melting

Our emotions as I talk silently to you

During the day leaning against old


Hearing you in the distance

Leaves me standing as standing

Before the choice again

To renew each other a new

Then I will ride and remember

I love you.


Blinky Lights

That blinky light so dinky

Keeps me squinty

When I see you across the road

I’ll give you wider berth

For such narrow girth

As a bike at night on the road

Those blinky lights at night

Flashy pattens make a sight

Like random fire flies exploding

In the twilight. I am glad

To see those blinky lights you’ve had

So I don’t run you over

Fondos Grand

I drive by the banners newly strapped to the guard rails
A race ready presentation for a cycling fondo.
I am stirred to reflect as if one of the thousands who will go by.
Latter I push myself, and race to that swopping dip in the road.
It comes and all I see is the road and gravel to avoid, the banners
Flicker past the eyes and are gone, with no emotion to the context
Of my stirred imagination, or that there will be an event tomorrow.
On the way back I roll up the hill and read the repeating names of sponsors
But only hoping I can find another rider on the simple road.
The fondo calls for thousands, thousands come and that makes it grand.


Rainy days rainy nights

pass by and if you are lucky

it will rain so hard you laugh

and wash the grit away.

no spot will be dry and if it were

it would only be bothersome.

by far the worst of rain

is a drizzle that keeps you

perpetually damp, gritty with dirt,

the rain jacket rains your sweat

back on to you, never escaping.

better to leave for waiting or walking

the hearty fall of drenching drops

And to lick your lips and quench the tongue

is a smile of liquid sunshine in a warm wind

The Best Ever

She speaks up often calling to be cared

He was fine and sleek, now shows wear

The same feel piques the senses in the bumpy

Roads of life, and she smooths them over at times.

I can inflate the sense of worth, with a puff of air

With eyes closed, still feel the smoothness

I will dream of him between my legs, and marvel

At how happy I can feel all sweaty and tired even sore

And do it again, then rest and feed, only to tickle the urge

So freely desired.

New rubber, old hands, tight nuts, I understand

I’m asleep, awake and she is in my mind, I may

Just be walking or holding, and look forward to washing

The dirt, the sweat, the salty residue of our exertion together

Is it no wonder my bike is hung on the wall?